Cold

I wish you could slip into me in a slide, an envelopment of limbs and body heat...

I wish the cold outside was warmed like a tea in a kettle...a gradual churn, a bubbling of steam and a comfort of closeness.

Winter is such a bitch outside.

We collided in a winter and felt such early exposure to the sweet insides of each other.

Now, far.

There is no lessening in the degrees of heat, but rather distance.

In the cold car seat of leather, with breath still a plume that exists in an exhale...the moment of ignition and driving on a solitary black road...waiting for the car to warm up.

Will it ever get as hot as the feel of you against me.

Will it ever drink in the warmth as a small sip that ruptured and spilled?

Will the hug ever reveal way more than it shows? An intimacy that only you and I know.

It is cold where you are.

I push warming thoughts to you and explain in your absence that if I were there you would be warm.